


we are fixed right where we stand

by shinealightonme



Series: what useless tools ourselves [3]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, this one isn't really about Los Angeles but LAX can go fuck itself all the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 19:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13887279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: Ronan comes home from DC with a surprise for Adam, because just saying "I missed you" is boring.





	we are fixed right where we stand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsGuinevere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsGuinevere/gifts).



> This is literally just porn. On a related note: I don't even know who I am anymore.

Ronan gets his nipples pierced while he's in DC on a film shoot -- because he's bored; because it's funny to do shit that weirds Declan out by while he's staying in Declan's guest room; because he misses Adam with a pain like getting stabbed so what the hell does he have to lose.

He doesn't tell Adam about it, because he's elevated fucking with Adam to an _art form_ and this is going to be his latest masterpiece.

(The secrecy gets a little awkward the night they end up having Skype sex, but they're both drunk enough to think that Skype sex is a good idea, and if Adam notices that Ronan keeps his shirt on the whole time, he doesn't mention it.)

Adam picks him up at LAX when he returns home, which is the single most romantic thing one person can do for another, even before the part where it takes forty-five fucking minutes just to get back to the freeway from the terminal. Adam is so gone on Ronan it isn't even funny. Honestly, if Adam was the one who'd just been out of town for a month and needed a ride home from the airport --

\-- well, okay, Ronan would have been fucking living in his car in the airport parking lot for the whole month, but that's not a great example. Ronan is pretty fucking gone on Adam, too.

He drops his bags the second he crosses the threshold into their apartment. Adam looks at the bags and looks away, already smiling a little. Absence makes the heart fonder, or at least, more willing to overlook annoying personal habits like leaving shit all over the place.

"I'm gonna shower," Ronan says, "I feel gross from the plane."

"Don't take too long, we're supposed to be at the restaurant in half an hour." As though Ronan hadn't gotten a thousand texts today _alone_ about their dinner plans. It is entirely possible that Gansey missed him even more than Adam did.

"I just need a minute."

He showers -- he does feel gross from the plane -- and then he gets half-dressed and wanders out to the living room without a shirt on.

Adam is flipping through a stack of mail, still looking like a fucking lawyer instead of someone who's about to celebrate his boyfriend's triumphant return to the West Coast. Ronan almost wishes that he'd dragged Adam into the shower with him, except he has a _plan_ and that would have ruined it.

Not that Adam is playing along with the plan anyway.

Ronan steps a little heavier into the room than he needs to, but Adam still doesn't look up.

He grabs his cell phone off the bookshelf where he'd left it five minutes ago and sets it down on the table next to Adam with a _thunk_.

Adam looks up from the mail, smiles absently, and then looks back down --

\-- and then he just -- short-circuits.

It's amazing. Ronan can actually _see_ rational thought vanishing from his eyes, replaced with an instant, desperate lust.

"Oh," Ronan says, blatantly ignoring his own nudity and Adam's reaction thereto. "There's my phone."

He leans forward, unnecessarily close to Adam, and picks his phone back up from the table where he'd set it one second before.

He takes a step away from the table. Adam follows, swaying a little like he's drunk.

"Ronan -- " His eyes are locked in on his chest.

Ronan leans forward again, gets right up next to Adam. Brings his mouth up to Adam's ear and growls, in a voice that's just _dripping_ sex:

"We're supposed to be at the restaurant in half an hour."

Adam shudders, reacting physically to his presence and his voice in his ear, and only, very belatedly, processing the words Ronan had actually said.

He wrenches his eyes back up to meet Ronan's. "What? No."

Ronan steps toward the bedroom. "We're going to be late."

"I don't give a damn."

"I do." Ronan makes a sad face. "I haven't seen Gansey in a month."

He watches with amazement as realization spreads across Adam's face, as it dawns on him that Ronan's bad timing is _on purpose_. Which is very slow on the uptake for Adam, but hey, he's got other things on his mind.

"Oh, you son of a _bitch_."

"Hey, my mother is a saint."

"Yes, so think about how terrible I'm going to feel when I have to tell her that _I murdered you_ and it was _completely justified_."

"If you kill me you don't get to play with these." Ronan flicks a thumb over the piercing in his left nipple. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it's a weird sensation, one he hasn't gotten used to yet. It's more than worth it for the look on Adam's face, though, hope and agony, like a saint in a prayer book, like a user after a fresh hit. "Come on, are you changing or what?"

Adam trails after him to the bedroom, grabbing clothes out of the closet without looking at them. At the time, Ronan just figures that Adam's trying to keep his eyes on the show, and he's too glad to see the lawyer suit end up on the ground, to see Adam looking like he's going to dinner with friends instead of addressing the fucking jury, that he doesn't give it a second thought, that Adam is doing what he's told.

-

Adam doesn't contribute a whole lot to the dinner-time conversation, but no one besides Ronan seems to notice. Cheng is a conversation all by himself, and Gansey's pestering Ronan into talking a lot more than he would normally: _how was DC -- how is Declan -- do you really have to talk about your brother like that -- how was the movie -- do you really have to call the director names --_

(Here at least Cheng earns his place at the table, "if anything, Ronan is being delicate about it, the director is a horrible little man," but then he ruins it, adds "we shall not be working with him in the future," and Ronan has to remind Cheng that he doesn't work for him, that just because he crewed this movie doesn't mean he'll crew the next one Cheng produces.)

A couple of times Blue or Gansey start to pull Adam into a conversation, and it's like watching a sleeper waking up from a dream, the way that Adam blinks his eyes and soaks up the words around him before he can respond. Ronan lets him have it, for a couple of minutes at a time, and then when Adam looks his way -- because Adam _always_ looks his way -- he leans back in his chair, rolls his shoulders in that way that pulls the fabric of his shirt tight enough for the piercings to be visible. Or at least, visible to anyone who is looking, and Adam is _always_ looking, can never look away for long.

-

They wander down the street aimlessly after dinner, because "it's a nice night!" No shit, Cheng, it's always a nice night in LA, that's the point of LA, but Ronan doesn't fight him on it. This serves his purposes just fine. "Let us quest for dessert."

"We should go home," Adam says, "Ronan's jet lagged."

"I feel fine." Ronan shrugs, another move that pulls his shirt taut. He maybe spent too much time in the mirror figuring all this shit out. "Dessert sounds good."

"No, I think we should be going."

"That's a real cute fantasy world you're living in," Blue chimes in, "where Ronan is a normal human with normal human needs like sleep, instead of a walking trash can fire."

Ronan rests his arms over both of Blue's shoulders, drapes himself over her back so she's carrying half of his weight.

She walks on, doesn't even break stride. Sometimes he regrets introducing her to his boxing gym.

"I mean, granted, Ronan looks like garbage," Blue continues, "but he always looks like garbage, so you guys might as well get dessert with us." There's an edge of mischief lurking in her words. She has an uncanny ability to know when shit needs stirring. Blue is the best friend that Ronan will never admit to having.

They get gelato. Ronan eats his as slowly as humanly possible. He still finishes before Gansey does, because Gansey gets distracted with a long story about his PhD adviser which is actually pretty funny to everyone at the table except Adam, who is staring at his spoon like it personally betrayed him. When he isn't ogling Ronan, anyway.

But even Gansey is just about done eating when Ronan says, "I'm gonna get a cup of coffee."

Adam shuts his eyes, a prayer for strength from an agnostic.

"This late at night?" Gansey asks. "Is that a good idea?"

"Sure," Adam says, fatalistically. "Coffee. Why not," and that's Blue's cue to tell them all about the douchebag Men's Rights Activist that she made cry in public.

-

It's another hour before they get back to the apartment, Ronan stepping over his bag, which is right in the way where he left it. It is good to be home.

"You know," he says, stepping further into the apartment, "I think I _am_ jet lagged. I should probably go to sleep."

"Don't," Adam says from behind him.

Ronan turns and takes one fast step, until he's right up in Adam's face, only the barest inch separating them. "Are you telling me what to do?"

It's an honest question. He wants to see what kind of mood Adam is in. If Adam wants to push back: _yeah, and you can't stop me._ If he wants to play coy, pay Ronan back for the last three hours of waiting: _if you can't think of anything better to do --_

But instead his eyes drop to the floor. He bites his lip, shakes his head: _no_.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Adam is feeling submissive.

Ronan can work with that.

He puts his hands on Adam's hips, takes a step forward and grins, slow, at the way that Adam immediately takes a step backward. Like dancing: Ronan leads, and Adam follows, lets Ronan guide him until his back is pressed against the wall. Ronan moves his hands from his hips to his wrists, pins Adam's hands down.

"You're going to be good for me?" he whispers in Adam's ear.

Adam shivers. " _Yes_."

He pushes a thigh between Adam's legs. He can feel Adam already getting hard against him, but he doesn't push back against Ronan at all, just pants and waits for Ronan to take care of him.

Ronan kisses him. Adam's mouth is slack at first, but he joins in soon enough, his lips soft and wet and languid.

Ronan rubs his thigh against Adam's cock, slow and firm, equal parts encouraging and stringing him along. His mouth moves down to Adam's neck, his ears, his jaw, the barest hints of his chest peeking out from his shirt. He kisses and nibbles and breaks away, frequently, to gaze at Adam and the utterly beautiful picture that he makes, flushed and disheveled and completely open for him. Ronan wants to run his fingers through Adam's hair, but he's busy holding his wrists to the wall, and they learned the hard way that restraints were a shitty, shitty idea. Adam trusts Ronan, but he doesn't trust ropes or handcuffs. This is the most control Adam is capable of surrendering, but _God_ , he surrenders it so well.

Ronan licks Adam, runs his tongue from his breastbone up his throat along his jaw up to his ear and when he gets there he whispers, "break for me, Adam."

Adam breaks.

"Please, Ronan, I need to touch you, oh God, _please_ \-- "

Ronan kisses him, hard, presses his entire body up against Adam until he's crushed against the wall. Revels in the feel of Adam gasping under his lips.

Just as suddenly, he pulls back. Breathes in Adam's ear, " _yes_ ," and then steps back, breaking contact between their chests, their legs, only finally at the end releasing Adam's wrists.

Adam doesn't waste a second getting his hands under Ronan's shirt, tearing it off of him in some kind of world record for speed. Adam knows consciously that Ronan is never going to deny him anything that he wants, not for good, but he's not thinking consciously right now. When he gets like this, on edge and starving, he's always so sure that this is a fluke, that it's not _real,_ that he can't _actually_ get what he wants.

Ronan is never going to get tired of showing him that he can.

Adam lowers his mouth to Ronan's left nipple, brushes his tongue lightly against the piercing.

Ronan shuts his eyes and _hisses_ , far too loud.

Adam pulls away.

He doesn't need to open his eyes to know the look on Adam's face: _now's the moment when I lose the thing I want_.

Ronan breathes, hard, "I didn't tell you you could stop."

It's an agonizing eternity before he feels Adam's breath on his chest again, another eternity before the wet heat of Adam's tongue pushing against his nipple, against the metal that pushes deeper into his skin -- and then oh, _fuck_ , Adam's fingers come up to toy with the piercing on the right -- 

Ronan digs his hands into Adam's hair, since he can and he wants to. He focuses on that, really hones in on how it feels. He needs a distraction from the absolute fucking _havoc_ Adam is wreaking on him. Adam has caught the piercing between his teeth, tugging on it lightly and circling the nipple with his tongue, and it feels completely, totally incredible. Ronan is one wrong breath away from coming in his pants over something that _isn't even his stupid goddamn fetish_.

He missed Adam so much that he _caught Adam's kinks,_ like they were a bad cold, and who the hell does that?

Adam's mouth breaks away.

Ronan thinks, _thank fuck_ and _no no nonono_ at the exact same time -- both thoughts are interrupted when Adam falls on his right nipple. He opens his mouth wider this time, circles the skin on Ronan's chest, circles the areola, and then he lays the flat of his tongue over Ronan's nipple and _sucks_ \-- 

Ronan hangs on as long as he can, and then ten seconds more -- twenty seconds more -- because the noises Adam is making are _obscene_ and he doesn't want to take that away from Adam, even if it might actually kill him.

When it's more than he can stand he pulls Adam up by his hair, drags him in for a kiss. Adam gets with the program more quickly this time, kisses Ronan back so deeply that Ronan's not sure he even notices his shirt getting unbuttoned and pushed off to the floor.

That's fine. For just this moment, Adam doesn't _need_ to notice anything, doesn't need to track what's happening and what he's supposed to be doing. Ronan is calling the shots, and he's not going to let anything important slip past him.

He kisses Adam breathless, and then kisses him a bit more for good measure, and then he breaks away and looks him over. Adam's eyes are lowered, lids half shut.

"You're going to get on your knees," Ronan says, voice even. Adam starts to lower himself, immediate obedience, but Ronan puts a hand on his shoulder, pining him against the wall. After a second, he puts his other hand around Adam's throat -- just the barest pressure, not enough to choke him, but enough to force his chin up. "Not yet. You're going to get on your knees, and you're going to suck me off. I'm going to come in your mouth." Adam whimpers, one quick sharp sound. Ronan reaches up with his thumb, runs it over the corner of Adam's lips. "You're going to swallow, and then you're going to stand back up and I'm going to do whatever I feel like to you. Got it?"

Adam dips his chin, as much of a nod as he can manage with Ronan's hand around his neck.

"Out loud."

Adam says, "yes."

Ronan removes his hands from Adam, steps and turns until it's his back pressed up against the wall. Adam drops to his knees in front of him, unbuckles his belt and pulls his jeans down in two quick motions.

Hell, they'd been having so much fun, why spoil the party?

"Hands on the wall," Ronan says.

Adam immediately lifts his hands up, presses his palms flat against the wall on either side of Ronan's hips.

Ronan reaches down, covers Adam's wrist with his own hands, and feels Adam's fingers curl with futile desire.

Adams starts off slow, kisses the tip of Ronan's cock, rubs his face against it, licks his way down the shaft and nuzzles at the vein in his leg. Ronan would wonder if Adam wasn't trying to string him along in his own way, get a bit of revenge back for making him wait all night, but Adam's face is desperate and devoted and devoid of all deception.

He takes some time to enjoy coming down from the edge, to enjoy how much Adam is enjoying him, and then he says, "open."

Adam's mouth opens, his eyes still shut and his hands still captive, and Ronan twists his hips to guide his cock past Adam's lips.

He nearly shuts his eyes at how good that feels, but stops himself at the last moment. This isn't just about him, and how good Adam's mouth feels, and how fucking much he missed all of this. This is about Adam most of all, Adam who has ceded over everything, Adam who expects nothing, Adam who is such a constant and ever-renewing miracle that the least Ronan can do is open his eyes and pay attention.

He realizes at some point, between the clamorous percussion of his own heartbeat and the slick wet skin sucking of Adam's mouth, that he's _saying all of this_ , admittedly less eloquent and with more cursing: "fuck, Adam, you're mine, you're so fucking beautiful -- "

Adam opens his eyes, looks up and locks in eye contact, his mouth full of Ronan, and he leans in to take Ronan deeper into his mouth then before, until Ronan can feel the tip of his cock brushing against the back of Adam's throat.

" _Fuck_." Ronan bangs the back of his head against the wall, desperate to reclaim his control. He needs to fucking stay in control --

There's worry in Adam's eyes, when he looks back down. Like he's wondering if he did something wrong. And that's enough to ground Ronan again, because how can Adam not _know_ how great he is, and how can Ronan _show him_ \--

Ronan lets go of one of Adam's wrists. Reaches up, with one hand, and runs a single fingertip around the piercing in his nipple.

Adam groans, as much felt around Ronan's dick as heard, and shuts his eyes.

"Open your eyes," Ronan growls, breathless, "open, _watch_ \-- "

Adam opens his eyes, moans again, and there's no games left between them, no room for pretense or delay. Ronan toys with his piercings, locking eyes with Adam all the while so that Adam will _know_ this is for him, and Adam sucks him down, hard as he can, until Ronan -- a man of his word -- comes in Adam's mouth and makes him swallow.

He takes a second to breathe, after, closes his eyes. Hey, he's only human.

But he promised he would take care of Adam, and that's not a promise he's ever going to break.

"Stand up," he says, because he wants to put his arms around Adam, because even an inch is too far away.

The only sound in the room is Adam's harsh breathing, until finally, like he's choking on the words, Adam says, "I _can't_ ," and he's so helpless and vulnerable and full of pained hope that it brings Ronan to his knees.

Ronan drops down beside him, burying his nose in Adam's hair, damp with sweat. "Hey, you're good, you're perfect, you're wonderful," and he doesn't even try to stop himself. This is what he loves the most about night like this, the fact that he gets to say all of the things that Adam never lets him say, all the things that Adam desperately needs to hear. "I'm going to take care of you," and he's working Adam's pants open while Adam looks down at the ground.

He gets his zipper open and -- oh, _Jesus_ \-- Adam _came already_ , while he was -- on his knees -- for Ronan, and that does terrible, wonderful, unbearable things to him.

"I've got you," Ronan whispers, "you're fine, God, Adam, you're so _fucking amazing_." Adam is still hard -- Adam is hard _again_ \-- so Ronan wraps his fingers around Adam's cock and strokes him, murmuring all the while, sweet nothings that mean everything, "you're good, Adam, fuck, you're so incredible," until Adam moans and comes all over his hand.

He holds onto Adam for a while, runs his clean hand up and down his back in slow, soothing gestures. He doesn't know how long it's going to take Adam to come back down. He doesn't care. He could hold him like this all night.

Adam stirs in his arms after a while, tilts his face up enough that Ronan can kiss him.

When the kiss ends, he can see Adam settling back into himself, pulling control back over his face like a mask. Except the mask is him, too, and Ronan loves all of him, hidden desires and desperate facade and everything in between.

Ronan gives him the once-over, because _fuck,_ he missed having Adam naked in front of him. Most of Adam's come ended up on his hand, but there's a streak on his stomach, so Ronan leans over and licks it off.

Adam breathes in sharply.

"It is _so weird_ when you do that," he says, not sounding like he minds at all.

Ronan raises an eyebrow, looking up at Adam from the vicinity of his stomach, which is to say, the same neighborhood as his dick. "You want to lose our security deposit because we got jizz stains on the carpet?"

"There are solutions beyond _lick up the mess_ ," Adam complains. "It's like having sex with a dog."

"You just lost your shit over two pieces of metal, you really want to talk about who's weirder in bed?"

"I 'lost my shit'," Adam says carefully, "because my idiot boyfriend paid someone to mutilate him to make me happy."

The mask slips, the slightest bit; control and vulnerability on display at the same time.

Adam's heart is always going to be surrounded by thick, high walls. But there's a door through those walls, and more and more Ronan finds that it's been left open for him before he's even knocked.

"I'd do a lot worse than that," he says.

Adam looks away from him, but it only takes Ronan settling back on his heels, bringing their eyes level, to get him to look back.

"I would, too," he says.

Ronan leans forward, tucks his face into Adam's shoulder, not even caring about the slide of sweaty skin against sweaty skin.

"Let's go to bed, it's the middle of the fucking night in DC."

"I thought you didn't get jet lagged," Adam says, and then he reaches up and flicks one of Ronan's piercings.

"Jesus _fuck_ ," Ronan swears, but Adam is already up and dashing out of the room, laughing.

He's still laughing when Ronan catches up to him in the bathroom, when Ronan drags him under the shower spray, when Ronan pushes him up against the tile and kisses him until the water runs cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't @ me about Ronan's lack of proper piercing aftercare, This Is Just For Fun.
> 
> If you like this fic you can [reblog it on tumblr.](http://toast-the-unknowing.tumblr.com/post/171591704535/we-are-fixed-right-where-we-stand)


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